When you Leave Speed in the Dust
by The Supreme Slurpinator
Summary: When a plane designed to go faster than anything before it is developed, the test pilot who get to fly it is a privileged individual indeed. But he gets more than he bargained for when it rips a tunnel into another world, a world he is tasked to explore. It is a challenging quest, but he has speed on his side. But will that be enough to help him survive his hardest task yet? HIE
1. Faster, Faster, Faster

**Chapter One**  
**Faster, Faster, Faster**

The Mark 65 sat, gleaming and sleek, under a pale blue sky. Its nose tapered to a needle, its wings in their minimum drag position, folded so close to the fuselage that they were practically non-existent. It was the fastest thing mankind had ever built, and now it was ready for its first test-flight. Designed to streak along at speeds unheard of before, it was an honor, and a risk, to fly. That honor went to an unassuming man named Mo Geschwind, who was currently in the locker room, slipping into his custom made G-suit.

The Mark 65, the Blitz, as Mo liked to call it, was a prototype "super plane". Capable of speeds excessive of Mach 50, or as low as 50 mph, as well being capable of vertical takeoff and landing, with a maximum service ceiling of 150,000 feet, it was a true wonder of human technology. It was being designed for a purpose Mo didn't like, however; a plane that could blow up a factory, then literarily be coming in for a landing at home the next second. Still, the military paid well for the development of the Blitz, and the only reason they had gotten this far is because of the funding the military provided. There was also the small factor that if this worked, it would be an enormous leap toward interstellar flight. That made him feel a hell of a lot better as he wriggled into the suit.

From behind him he heard a quiet chuckle and as he straightened, he saw the overseer of the project, a man by the name of Conwell Walsh.

"Good morning Mo," he said, smiling at Mo's struggles to get into the suit.

"Morning and good never have, and never will, belong together in a sentence," Mo grumbled, still struggling to get his hand into the suit's attached glove. While it would protect him from the extreme pressures at top speed, it was the most uncomfortable thing to get on. Once it was on it was fine, even comfortable. But worming your way into it was like trying to thread a needle with a shoelace. If not impossible, pretty damn hard. Mo was accustomed to having assistants help him into it, but today he was alone.

"Briefing in ten, wheels up in half an hour, Mo, if you can make it," Conwell informed him, peering at him impishly as Mo let out a sigh of relief as he finished putting on the suit, "Y'know, with all the trouble you're having putting that on, I'll be surprised if you can actually move at all.

"Oh ha ha, you know as well as I do that I can move fine, it's the getting in part that's hard," Mo retorted, before gesturing toward the door, "Shall we?"

"By all means," Conwell replied, falling into step with Mo, "So, how're you doing?"

"As well as can be expected when you're gonna take what may turn out to be a one-way trip on top of a highly volatile, twelve-ton stick of dynamite on hyper-steroids, that could blow up at the drop of a hat," Mo replied, attempting a crack at humor.

Conwell chuckled, but quickly returned to his serious mood, "I'm not joking around, Mo. It's not too late to..."

"That's a lie and we both know it, Conwell," Mo cut him off, "Besides, I don't want to back out. I'm a test pilot at heart, and its best to be one of those when you don't have a family to speak of so that if you do die, you don't hurt anyone too badly."

The two walked in silence for the remainder of the walk to the briefing room. Upon entering, Mo saw a plethora of scientists, a few military officials, and a couple politicians, all clustered at a large table that took up most of the room. The only one Mo cared about at the moment, however, was the man standing at the head of the table, deep in conversation with two of the politicians and one of the military officials. He looked up as Mo approached, a weary smile stretching across his rugged features.

"Ah, Colonel Geschwind," he said, "Are you ready to make history, and the front page while you're at it?"

"As ready as I'll ever be, General Wesner," Mo answered.

"Great, Colonel, these are senators McNeil and Atkins, and this is General Deamora," Wesner said, indicating the three he had been conversing with before Mo and Conwell showed up, "They're here to observe the test flight."

"Nice to meet you all," Mo said, shaking hands with all three of them, "When are we go for takeoff, General?"

"About ten minutes, we're just running some last-minute tests," he said, "In the meantime, sit tight."

"All right, everybody," General Wesner raised he voice to address the whole room, "If you'll kindly take a seat."

There was short period of chairs being pulled back, a space Mo occupied with familiarizing himself with the screen set in the table before him. Nothing new there.

"All right, everybody knows that this is going to be the first test flight of the Mark 65," Wesner started, "The Mark 65 is a highly experimental, triple-engined high altitude craft that is theorized to be able to fly at speeds excessive of Mach 50. To get there, each engine has a different purpose, at a different speed. Its turbojet engines are for speeds from zero to Mach 5, as well as providing power for the VTOL. At Mach 6, the scramjet cuts in, speeding it along up to Mach 20. Then, the workhorse, the nuclear fusion engine, starts up, and that should carry it up to Mach 50 and, if all goes well, above. In the design, there are spaces for weapons bays that we have filled with research equipment, spaced so to as closely simulate the weight spread of weapons and ammunition as we can manage. The mission profile is going as such; First, Mo, our test pilot, will taxi the Mark 65 out to the runway and attempt a VTOL takeoff, if he succeeds, he will continue up into the atmosphere, passing Mach one as he does so. If he doesn't, then he will execute a conventional takeoff, then continue in the same way he would if he had succeeded in the VTOL takeoff. At 50,000 feet, he will pass Mach two, and at 75,000 feet, and at Mach five, the scramjet will cut in. This will continue to boost the Mark 65 up to its ideal flying altitude and maximum scramjet speed, of 125,000 feet and Mach twenty, at which the nuclear fusion engine will take over, and that will take it to Mach fifty and, hopefully, above. Any questions?"

There were none.

"Well then, let's go and break some records."

* * *

"Control, this is Hyper Strike, requesting permission for takeoff," Mo said, taxiing the Mark 65 to the takeoff pad, to try and take off vertically.

"Hyper Strike, this is Control, you are go for takeoff, repeat, you are go for takeoff," came the response, crackling over the radio.

"Okay, increasing collective to 90 degrees, increasing throttle to 20 percent," Mo said.

The Mark 65 shuddered, then, slowly, it rose off the pad, glinting in the early morning sun.

"We have liftoff, repeat, we have liftoff, control," Mo said, "Proceeding to checkpoint Alpha and waiting for further instructions."

"Roger that, Hyper Strike, no further instructions, continue proceeding to checkpoint Alpha," came the response.

Mo increased the throttle, heading for the checkpoint. He felt the g-forces building up. 'Almost there, almost there; come on, COME ON…' he thought, as the speedometer climbed past 700 mph, then, suddenly, BOOM! The observers heard the telltale deafening explosion of noise as the Mark 65 pierced the sound barrier.

"Control, this is Hyper Strike, sound barrier breached, reached checkpoint Alpha, increasing throttle and proceeding to checkpoint Beta."

"Solid copy, Hyper Strike."

At this Mo eased the throttle up even further, and watched the speedometer climb.

* * *

"Control, Hyper Strike here, checkpoint Beta reached, cutting in scramjet now, proceeding to checkpoint Gamma."

"Solid copy."

* * *

"Okay, Control, passing both checkpoint Gamma and Mach twenty. You know what that means," Mo said into the radio, "Starting up fusion engine."

Now was the moment of truth. Now they would see if all that research, all that development called the nuclear fusion engine would cut in and run smoothly, or blow up in their faces. Now was the deciding factor of whether this mission was a resounding success, or a dismal failure.

"Copy that, Hyper Strike," came the reply, "Good luck. You'll need it."

Mo slowly hovered his hand over the button that would start the fusion engine, and, taking a deep breath, punched it.

The roar that followed put all others to shame. It was as if someone had taken all the loud noises in the world, put them together, and amplified the end result 1000 times. Mo was pressed back in his seat as the Mark 65 shot forward, accelerating at an incredible velocity from its already blazing speed.

"Hyper Strike, report," Mo heard dimly, as if from the end of a very long tunnel, "Come in, Hyper Strike. Mo, can you hear me? MO!"

That shout jerked Mo out of his daze, and he thumbed his radio, "This is Hyper Strike, engine ignition successful, repeat, engine ignition successful."

Mo could hear whoops and shouts of jubilation through the radio connection, and allowed himself a small smile of relief, but felt that he had to dampen the mood, as one final hurdle remained to a smooth operation.

"Control, keep your heads on, we're not done yet," he said, and heard the noises of celebration dim somewhat, "Still gotta make it past Mach fifty for the mission to be considered a full success."

"Copy that, Hyper Strike, continue to checkpoint Delta."

"On it, Control."

* * *

"Control, here's the moment of truth, whether the Mark 65 can make it past Mach fifty, what with the difficulty it's having keeping stable," Mo said as he eyed the throttle, waiting for the command to push it even further forward.

"Go for it, Hyper Strike."

Before he could wonder if it was a good idea or not, he grabbed the throttle and slammed it forward.

The plane shuddered, then ever so slowly, the needle of the speedometer began to creep past the 49 and up toward the 50. As it did so the shuddering became more intense, escalating to the point of bucking.

"Come on, don't quit on me now; you can do it, you can do it," Mo kept encouragement steadily streaming from his mouth, trying to keep the plane on course and trying, and failing somewhat, at keeping the craft steady in air.

"Hyper Strike!" A sharp voice cut through the radio chatter, "We're getting unidentified electromagnetic pulses coming from your craft, becoming stronger the faster you go! Abort the mission, repeat, abort the mission!"

"I can keep it together, Control, just a little further," Mo replied, his fingers flashing over the controls.

"Negative, Hyper Strike, abort now!"

Mo then faced a choice. Ignore Control, and push for Mach 50, risking his life, and his job, in the process, or back off, and likely never fly the Mark 65 again.

He made his decision.

"Sorry, Control," and he floored the accelerator.

Instantly the Mark 65 shuddered, groaned, then, miraculously, the needle inched past Mach 50 in the speedometer.

Instantly, the shuddering stopped. So did the radio transmissions. Mo looked over his controls in confusion, then did a double take. The speedometer was rapidly accelerating past Mach 75, his drag indicator was at zero, and his engine was at maximum efficiency, hardly using any fuel at all. Looking out the windshield, Mo saw that the world was distorted, as if he was inside an oblong soap bubble, a soap bubble that started just in front of his plane, traveling with him, distorting the light waves that came through it. As Mo pondered this he backed off the throttle a little, and the speedometer responded, the needle slowing, then stopping, hovering over Mach 80. This didn't help the visual distortion, nor the radio silence.

Mo then saw something that he couldn't believe. Ahead of him, pulsating, was a giant blue tunnel, floating in midair. Mo tapped the throttle forward, and he approached the phenomenon. Just as he was about to enter it, at a speed of Mach 100, a muffled radio transmission, made almost indecipherable by static, cut through his reverie.

"Kshhh...Hyp...Str...kshh...Come...per...ke...kshh...MO!"

That last word broke his focus on the tunnel in front of him, and he grabbed the throttle and yanked it back, keying a half extension of the wings at the same time.

The reaction was akin to slamming into a brick wall. True, it was the reaction he wanted, but it still jarred him a little. The speedometer's needle rapidly began scrolling down, and as it passed Mach 50, the distortion disappeared, and the shuddering came back, though that also rapidly dwindled out as Mo's speed dropped even more, stabilizing at around Mach 1.5.

Mo fell back in his ejection seat, took a deep breath, allowed his pulse to settle, and let the renewed radio traffic wash over him. He allowed himself a brief time of recuperation, before keying the radio.

"This is Hyper Strike. Mission accomplished, repeat, mission accomplished. We did it."

Mo nearly ripped his headset off, for a deafening round of cheers had issued forth from its speakers.

Mo finally let a full-blown grin make its way onto his face. It was over, they had done it, and even though Mo had disobeyed a direct order from Control, he could care less.

"Setting course for home now, Control."

"Solid copy, Hyper Strike. Drinks are on you."

Mo smiled even wider, "Agreed."

* * *

The days following the first successful flight of the Mark 65 passed as a blur for Mo. He became a international celebrity overnight, not that he cared. His superiors hadn't been happy with him for disobeying a direct command, and because of this, he had been put on hiatus. Once he had been debriefed, however, and he had told them about the strange wormhole-like phenomenon, aided by the pictures taken by the onboard camera, they couldn't wait to get him in the air again. The number-crunchers at HQ had figured out that the distortion Mo had seen from the cockpit, as well as the strange reading and radio silence, had been caused by the shock waves Mo had been generating curling around the plane, finally meeting and making a "space-bubble" around the Mark 65, allowing for effortless flight. The drawback of this, however, was that it was nearly impossible for radio waves to pierce this bubble.

The politicians and military generals had been especially interested in the tunnel, which the scientists had started calling a wormhole. They wanted more information about this strange phenomenon, and they wanted it fast. So, it was decided that the next mission of the Mark 65 was going to be an armed exposition into the unknown.

Into the wormhole.

* * *

The day of the second flight of the Mark 65 dawned, bright and clear. Mo stretched, feeling the modifications in the suit, which made it more comfortable, yet still able to protect him.

His plane had gone through a makeover as well, replacing research pods with cannons, missiles, electronic jammers, and even more dangerous prototype weapons that had the potential to wreak more havoc than all the others onboard combined, or just blow up in his face. It had also got an added compartment installed for an onboard camera, as well as storage lockers to stow his gear in. The plane's frame was reinforced, up to the point that it would sustain only minimal damage in all but the worst crashes; The stabilizers were also modified, to increase stability and maneuverability when nearing Mach 50. The radio had gotten an upgrade as well, allowing greater communication when past Mach 50, and the scientists theorized that when he was in the bubble, he could send and receive rudimentary messages through the wormhole to update Control on his progress, as well as receive orders.

One of the largest changes to the plane, however, and the one that Mo was the happiest about, was the fuel system. Now, instead of using gasoline, the turbojets and scramjet now burned liquid hydrogen and oxygen. This meant that the fuel delivered much more power, per gallon, with no carbon emissions. What really made this system shine, however, was the fact that all Mo needed to refuel was plain, old, ordinary WATER. Everything he needed to make more fuel was integrated into the plane. First, solar panels separated the two elements, hydrogen and oxygen, and sent the gasses to two separate holding tanks, where they would then be sent through a complex cooling and pressurization system. From there, the now liquid, and highly volatile, elements would be sent to the main fuel tanks. This system eliminated the need for large fuel tanks.

Virtually everything on, in, or around the plane had gotten modified or changed. So, in other words, the Mark 65 was now the Mark 66.

* * *

"All right, here we go again, Control," Mo said, nudging the throttle forward as he the Mark 66 cruised through the air, "So, increasing throttle to 35 percent, cutting in scramjet." This time there were no foreplay, he just cut to the chase. His real mission lie in the world beyond the wormhole.

"Go for it, Hyper Strike. Best of luck to you."

* * *

Mo gulped as he approached the wormhole, beginning to feel apprehensive about the whole deal now that he had time to think about what lay in the other side.

Again steeling his nerve, he pushed the throttle forward, and shot into the wormhole.

The craft began to buck like an animal possessed, and it was all Mo could do to keep it on a relatively straight path. In the end, though, he just let go of the controls and let the plane fly on its own. Well, more like careening than flying. Mo felt his stomach turn as the plane lurched and swayed, and he desperately fought the rising bile.

Then, it was over.

The Mark 66 shot out of the wormhole, into a strange new world.


	2. A Strange Greeting in a Strange World

**Chapter Two  
****A Strange Greeting in a Strange World**

It was a fine morning, one that promised clear skies and no worries. At least, that's what Twilight Sparkle thought, as she took in a deep breath of the crisp spring air, letting it out slowly. Rainbow Dash zoomed overhead, Scootaloo on her back, both giggling madly. Twilight smiled, glad that Rainbow Dash could find time to play with her adoptive sister, and that Scoots could call off the crusading for a day to respond.

Twilight decided to head over to Sugarcube Corner, as she had yet to have breakfast, and she was sure that Pinkie, as always, had baked something delicious.

Upon entering the shop Twilight's only warning was a squeal of happiness, then her vision was obscured by a mass of pink hair, as she was glomped by the oftentimes over-enthusiastic baker.

"TWILIGHT!" She shrieked, right into the said mare's ear.

"Urk…Pinkie…can't…breathe…" she managed to choke out.

"Oopsie, sorry Twilight," said Pinkie, releasing her death grip, causing Twilight to fall to the floor, gasping for breath.

"Its fine Pinkie," she replied, getting to her feet, "What have you got in the way of breakfast? I'm starving."

Immediately, Pinkie appeared behind the counter, seeming to have teleported.

"Well, we have..." She began to rattle off names and prices, but suddenly stopped, as Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo had just walked in laughing their heads off at a joke Rainbow was telling.

"And then, and then, I said; The chances? About one fillion! Aak!

That last part being a result of Pinkie tackling her to the ground, hugging her until her face turned purple.

Twilight laughed, walked over to Pinkie and whispered in her ear, "If you squeeze her anymore, her eyes might pop out."

Pinkie instantly dropped Rainbow, who sucked in a deep breath.

"Oopsie, sorry Rainbow," she said before appearing behind the counter again, and continuing to list names and prices, as if nothing has happened.

"Uh, Pinkie?" Rainbow asked, "Can you start from the top, please? Scoots here told me that you had some new stuff on the menu that was, how did you put it? Almost as awesome as me."

Without missing a beat or taking a breath, Pinkie continued listing, but listing things that Twilight had heard already.

Upon finishing, Pinkie looked at them expectantly and asked, "So, what'll it be?"

"Could I have a banana-nut muffin, please?" asked Twilight, with one appearing before her in a matter of seconds.

"That'll be 2 bits, please," Pinkie said.

Twilight paid and Pinkie then turned to the two pegasi.

"And for you?" She asked.

"We'll have the..." Rainbow was cut off by an earsplitting KA-BOOM that reverberated in they're very bones.

After a stunned moment, Twilight, Rainbow and Pinkie shared a look, then Rainbow turned to Scootaloo, "I gotta go, we can catch up later, okay?"

Upon seeing the nod from Scoots, the three of them rushed out the door.

* * *

Mo wrestled with the controls of the Mark 66, as the ground rushed closer and closer. Just as he thought that he was going to crash into the soil, the plane righted itself, and, with a sigh of relief, Mo pulled back on the stick, sending the Mark 66 soaring back into the open sky.

As Mo pulled back on the throttle, decreasing his speed until he was cruising at 150 mph, he got a chance to finally observe the world around him.

To his complete surprise, he saw buildings, roads, and fields, all the signs of civilization. Underneath him, there lay a medium sized town, in which he saw specks swarming about, which, he reasoned, was probably because of the massive sonic boom he had triggered.

Oh well, couldn't be helped.

Ahead of him he saw a massive castle on the side of a mountain, which, as he watched was suddenly enveloped in a huge pink bubble.

'Shield generator?' he thought in surprise. Judging from the civilians reactions to his plane, he had assumed that this world had no technology to speak of, but this shield seemed to say otherwise.

As he turned his attention back to his controls, he decided that landing in a secluded spot was the best course of action for now. Turning his gaze back to the terrain below, he saw that beyond the town, there was a very tall, and very steep mountain, with what seemed to be a large cave at the top. Thinking that only extremely determined expert mountaineers would be able to scale it, he aimed the nose of him craft towards the mountain.

Just as he placed his hand on throttle, a loud bleeping filled the cockpit. Glancing around at his instruments, he saw that on the radar there were seventeen blips on it, five from the town he had just flew over, and twelve from a mass of what the radar registered as cloud.

'Missiles!' He thought, immediately pushing the throttle forward to Mach 5, which was faster than any of the missiles back home. Looking back he beheld one of the missiles rapidly pulling ahead of the others, his radar confirmed this, and suddenly seeming to break the sound barrier. Why it wasn't already traveling at supersonic speeds, he didn't know, but what was really interesting was what it did as it pierced the sound barrier, Instead of just the boom, however, it released a multi-colored halo and began to trail a rainbow. It still was rapidly falling behind him however.

Turning his attention back to his instruments, he yelped and yanked the stick back and to the right, sending the Mark 66 into a climbing turn back toward the town. This was because as he had been focused on the blips from the town, the blips from the cloud mass, he still didn't get that, had closed in on him, all the more rapidly with his sudden acceleration. As it was, he narrowly missed them, but as he though back, his confusion grew. The missiles had no loud roar of engines, no smoke trail. A quick glance at the radar said that they were also flying in close formation, something no Earth missiles did, and that the five blips from the town he had done a flyover of were going to meet the twelve others.

Deciding that enough was enough, he deployed flares, but the blips didn't vary from there course of chasing him at all. Thinking that they might be radar guided instead of heat-seeking, he next deployed chaff. This did cause most of the blips to veer off-course, but one didn't. It flew right into the chaff cloud, and when he picked up its radar signature again, it was underneath the cloud, and falling fast. Two blips left formation, as if to catch it, and this increased his confusion. He didn't have time to dwell on the matter, however, as the remaining missiles had regrouped on the other side of the chaff cloud, and were hot in pursuit once again.

Pieces began to fall into place in Mo's mind as he pondered the situation. The absence of missile launching sites, the missiles avoiding the chaff, except the one that hit it but didn't blow up, falling instead, and the two blips chasing it, _as if to rescue it!_

All the signs pointed towards intelligent life, life that could fly to boot. A quick switch to infrared confirmed this theory. He was indeed being chased by animals of some sort. Upon this realization, Mo pulled back on the throttle, turned the plane to face his assailants, and began to rotate the thrust nozzles down, coming to a full stop, hovering to allow the missiles, or rather, the creatures, to catch up.

As they approached, he, once again, glanced down at his controls to make sure that all of his weapons were armed. Just in case they showed signs of aggression. Then, he looked up, and choked.

Hovering in a semicircle in front of him were PEGASI! Honest to goodness _ponies with wings!_ He had been expecting flying life, but this was still stretching it. To see anything that even vaguely resembled anything back on Earth, the chances of this were practically nonexistent. They seemed to be conversing, and this indicated sentience, something only humans had achieved back on Earth.

Or at least, they thought so. They weren't sure.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed that twelve of them, he assumed that these were all from the cloud, appeared to be wearing goggles and covered in blue bodysuits, with lightning encircling the wrists. He then looked over at the remaining two pegasi. One of them was sky blue, with a rainbow-striped mane and tail. He assumed that this one was the one that had been trailing the rainbow earlier. The last one, this one lavender with, he noticed with a start, a horn sprouting from its forehead, was advancing, its horn starting to glow.

Mo nearly jumped out of his skin when an amplified voice, clearly feminine, spoke.

"Greetings, human, I am Princess Twilight Sparkle, and I am here to bring you to the rulers of our fair land of Equestria, Princess Celestia and Princess Luna. If you would please follow me, I will take you to them. If you resist, we will use force. If you do not reply in one minute, we will assume that you are hostile, and we will attack."

A million questions rushed around in Mo's head, such as; 'Princesses? Really?' and, more importantly 'How does she know I'm a human? Do humans exist in this dimension?' The odds of that were practically nonexistent, but it seemed to be so, how else would this pony recognize him for what he was? The request, and the threat, though, were at the forefront of his mind. Should he follow them? It might be good idea to meet these monarchs, as having bad relations with the rulers of the land was a sure shot ticket to trouble. He also might get support from them, support in the form of things like food and water.

On the flip side however, was the possibility that the Princesses already viewed him as a threat, and as soon as he stepped foot in their halls, they would capture him and his plane, or worse, kill him. He had the advantage of speed over these ponies, obviously, should he choose to run. He most likely had the advantage of firepower too, but he couldn't be too sure. For all he knew, the ponies could blast him out of the sky without a second thought. There was also the problem of the fact that he had already injured, or even worse, killed, one of their number, so technically, he had shown hostility first. That probably didn't improve his reputation with these ponies.

Great, a terrible first impression. Just what he needed.

Realizing that his minute was just about up, made a split-second decision. He would go with these ponies, as injuring or killing any more of them would pave the way for full-force retaliation. Upon deciding this he was then faced with the problem of how to communicate with these ponies. That was soon solved, however, as he figured out that the voice amplification, and, possibly, translation, worked both ways. They could address him, yes, but he could speak to them as well.

"I'll go with you," he said.

"Excellent, now..."

Mo cut her off, "…but only if you agree to my conditions. First, and foremost, you do not touch my plane._ I cannot stress this enough. _One of you so much as hits the wrong button, and they could kill someone, or themselves, and then I'll get blamed for it. Second, you allow me to bring whatever I wish from my plane to meet your princesses, as long as I promise not to harm them unprompted, or anyone else for that matter, with what I take. Third, when we land, I will not be put under lockdown or surveillance. I want to be able to visit my plane whenever I wish, unescorted. Those are my terms, and you either agree to them all, or I don't go."

Twilight Sparkle considered them for a while, then said, "I'm not sure about unescorted, but..."

Mo cut her off again. "They are not up for discussion or negotiation. Take it or leave it."

Twilight Sparkle glared at Mo, or rather, at where she thought he was. That turned out to be about three feet to his left. "Fine," she finally said, "If you would please follow us."

The ponies formed a loose circle around him, before starting off towards the castle on the mountain. As his escort moved out, Mo breathed a sigh of relief, and began to power down most of his weapons. Then, he looked forward towards the castle, wondering what awaited him there. Death, imprisonment? Only time would tell.


	3. An Unexpected Guest

**Hey there guys (and girls)! I know that this chapter has kept y'all waiting a long time, and I'm sorry for that. While I can't say that I will now have a regular updating schedule, I can say that I have found a more efficient way of writing, and hopefully that will help me speed up the updating process. There are a few other things I'd like to touch upon before the story, one of them being that I don't think I captured the canon character's personalities very well. It may just be me, but I'm not very happy with how their personalities turned out. This may be because I have seen some truly awesome examples of these characters, and me hoping to write like them is impossible, and so when my writing turns out to less than what I expected, I get disappointed in myself and my writing. This**** happens a lot, I'm afraid. Hmm, maybe that's why I like editing. I dunno. XD.** That goes to show how much of an obsessive perfection freak I am. Anyway, enough of me rambling, ONWARD TO THE STORY!

* * *

**Chapter Three  
An Unexpected Guest**

Rainbow Dash couldn't believe her eyes when she saw the massive _thing_ just floating there, all the while making a loud roaring sound that would put a manticore to shame.

She couldn't believe her ears when she heard the thing _answer _Twilight, and then converse with her.

She couldn't believe the wind it put out, blistering hot currents of air flowing from underneath it that buffeted even the strongest Wonderbolt fliers.

All in all, in seemed this thing's only purpose in the world was to make as little sense as possible.

Kinda like Pinkie.

As the procession moved toward Canterlot, Rainbow snuck a peek at the thing. Long, silver, and sharply pointed, it reminded her of one of Rarity's needles, if a needle had gone and been blown up like a one of Pinkie's balloons. Well, except for the long ridges that ran almost the entire length of the… what did the human's voice call it? A plane? They almost seemed like wings, barring the fact that they weren't flapping. That was another thing that she couldn't understand, how this thing was flying without flapping. But then again, she couldn't understand pretty much everything about this strange craft. All she knew was that the human inside it was getting the tongue-lashing of his life, as he had injured Flitter when she had flown into that cloud of silver stuff, when it had cut some of her feathers off, rendering her flightless. Cloudchaser and Thunderlane had fallen back to catch her, so Rainbow wasn't worried her too much, as she was sure they had caught her, but it was the fact that the human seem able, and willing, to hurt others that worried her.

As they drew closer to Canterlot, a hole in the bubble opened, and Rainbow saw both Princess Celestia and Princess Luna fly out of it. She drew to a halt, Twilight and the Wonderbolts doing the same. The flying needle continued forward for a second longer, but then stopped as well.

"Wait, why are we stopping?" the human asked, as Twilight's amplification/translation spell was still in effect.

"Human, these are Princesses Celestia and Luna, the sovereign rulers of this land," Twilight replied, "They are the ones who will decide what to do with you."

The two said monarchs flew up into the group, stopping in front of the massive metal thing.

"Uh, hello?" the human offered, sounding a bit nervous, "Hey, listen, sorry about..."

"WHO ART THOU?" Rainbow flinched at the sound of Luna's royal Canterlot voice, and obviously it startled the human too, as a strangled yelp sounded, "WHY HAVE THOU COME HERE?"

"Luna, manners," Celestia reprimanded softly, "We do not need to send a first impression of screaming rulers who demand two answers at once, when only one can be given at a time."

The human chuckled, obviously finding something funny in something Celestia said.

"What art it that thou find amusing, human?" Luna asked, before correcting herself, "What is it that you find amusing?"

"First off, my name is Mo. Mo Geschwind. Being referred to as 'human' is starting to grate on my nerves." Rainbow's eye twitched at that. HIS nerves? What about hers? Was this human, Mo, whatever, _really_ that clueless? She focused back to the conversation, resigning herself to beating him up later, at least verbally, if not physically. "Second, as first impressions go, I think I take the prize for the worst one ever. I believe I injured one of your own when they flew through the chaff I had dispensed, and I'm sorry for that. I thought your welcome committee here were missiles, so I acted accordingly. Well, in my world's opinion I acted accordingly."

Rainbow's rage subsided somewhat, now that she had an explanation for the human's behavior. In his world things that were flying toward him at a high speed were a bad thing. What were these missile things? She was still pissed at him, but not to the point of her wanting to beat him around the head with a tree branch. More like just slapping him hard enough to leave a mark. But…

"What are these missiles you speak of?" Luna asked.

"They are a…" Twilight started, when suddenly, a beeping sound filled the air.

"DOWN!" Rainbow and Spitfire yelled simultaneously, beginning to dive toward the ground, most of the ponies following suit. Strangely, Twilight did not. Neither did Celestia or Luna. Instead Celestia and Luna's horns began to glow, enveloping them in yellow and midnight blue auras. Twilight still did nothing.

"WAIT!" cried Mo. That yell alone was enough to stop Rainbow and the others in their tracks. The princess's shields didn't go away, however.

"That beeping is just the indicator warning me that my fuel reserves are running out," he said, "If they do run out completely, this plane, and me, go down and crash, which for me means an almost certain death, at least at this altitude. Can we please continue this conversation later, when I have landed, and am working on getting some of those fuel reserves back? I have about ten minutes of flight time left before I absolutely, _positively_ have to land and refuel, whether or not it's a place that suits your needs. Well, five if we continues to hover here for much longer."

The princesses, Twilight included, began to murmur very hurriedly, and, after a second, Celestia addressed the Mo once more.

"Very well, Mo. We shall continue this discussion later, when you have landed and are provided with the means in which to 'refuel', whatever that means, as long as it is within our power. Now, come, we shall make haste to Canterlot."

With that, the whole procession started moving again, albeit faster than before and now with the princess in the lead. Rainbow noticed that even though a hole opened in the shield to admit them, it did not deactivate. If the human noticed this, he made no comment.

Rainbow looked down, expecting to see one of two things. One, the streets of Canterlot would be completely deserted, as the strange flying object had frightened the ponies into barricading themselves in their homes. Or two, that a massive crowd of ponies would be rampaging around, screaming their heads off at of the sight and the sound of the massive flying needle.

She saw neither. Instead of being greeted with empty streets or streets filled with ponies running around screaming, she saw the streets looking much like they would on any normal day, give or take a few ponies scanning the sky curiously. Even when a pony looked directly at the 'plane', their gaze slid directly over it, instead focusing on the princesses.

Turning her own attention to the princesses, Rainbow noticed their horns glowing, though what they were casting a spell on she did not know.

Once they reached the interior courtyard, Celestia ordered the gates shut and the doors closed, which was quickly carried out by guards who, Rainbow noted, did have stunned expressions on their faces when they caught sight of the thing tailing Celestia, Luna, and Twilight. A few even leveled their spears at it, even though Rainbow doubted they would do much against the plane, should things get nasty.

As the plane descended into the courtyard, Rainbow turned and looked back the way they'd come. To her surprise, she saw Thunderlane and Cloudchaser flying along slowly, supporting Flitter between them. Rainbow suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. She should have told those two to head home once they had caught Flitter, not had them fly all the way here supporting flightless flier. Oh well, couldn't be helped, and since they had helped chase the plane down, they should have a right to know what was going on. She waved them over, then pointed them down to courtyard, where the plane had finally landed, surrounded by Wonderbolts all around. Just in case. Twilight stood just in front of Celestia and Luna, all of whom were standing just to the left of the craft, where they were waiting for the craft to open and dispel the human.

Cloudchaser whistled.

"Dang, what is that?" she asked, her expression mirroring Thunderlane and Flitter's.

"Some sort of human machine. I think the guy inside called it a 'plane'," she answered, "Anyway, you guys get down there and after we get this sorted out, well, if we get this sorted out, I want you guys to go and find someone to take a look at Flitter's wing. By the way, how is it?"

"Not too bad, Rainbow," Flitter answered, extending it. Now that Rainbow could see it up close, she realized that most of the primary feathers were sheared off about three quarters of the way down, "Mostly just feather damage, and that's repairable. I'll get back to you on that once I have it looked at."

"Great, now let's get down there. I think the human's coming out any second now."

As they approached, a small hatch on the side of the plane popped outward with a hiss of escaping air and vapor, swung down to clunk against the cobblestones. As the tension mounted, Rainbow began to feel a little apprehensive about the whole deal. Finally, scraping sounds that originated from inside the craft alerted them to the human's approach. Rainbow noticed signs of increased wariness, apprehension, and alertness from everypony.

At last, a figure appeared in the hatchway, obscured by the mist and on all fours. This confused Rainbow. Hadn't Twilight, when she had come back from her little adventure on the other side of that mirror said that humans walked on two feet all the time, and only got down on all fours occasionally?

Celestia was the first to speak, "Greetings, Mo Geschwind, I am Princess Celestia, and this is…"

"I am Princess Luna," the said pony interrupted, ignoring the glare Celestia shot her, "Now, would you be so kind as to answer the questions I asked you earlier? One at a time," she added hurriedly.

"Just, ugh, gimme a second here, please," the figure replied, slowly turning over and collapsing on his back, "Kinda gotta let the weirdness of it all sink in."

After a second, the figure of Mo flipped back over, then, he stood up, and Rainbow and most of the other ponies took a nervous step back. As he had not stood up onto all fours, like before, and like ponies, but up on two legs, making him as tall, or taller, than Celestia herself.

Rainbow gawked, her jaw hanging open. She wasn't the only one. Pretty much everypony in the courtyard was staring slack-jaw at the new sight. Only Twilight, Celestia, and Luna looked unfazed.

He was tan skinned, not seeming to have any fur, strangely, except on the top of his head, where a mop of dirty blond hair sprouted. Blue eyes stared out from a clean-shaven face, eyes that were currently displaying confusion at all the ponies staring at him as if he had just grown a third eye.

"Uh, why are they all staring at me?" he asked, directing his question at nopony in particular. "Do you not have humans here? How then, did you know I was one?" The last part was directed at somepony, Twilight, who stepped forward to answer.

"No, humans do not reside in this realm, so nopony is used to seeing them. I believe that before today, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna, and myself were the only ones who have seen them with our own eyes, and only a select few others even know of them. So, you are the first human many of them have seen."

"That still doesn't answer my other quest…"

"I am getting there. You see, in this very castle there exists a mirror, one that, every thirty moons, opens a gateway to another world. Your world, I believe."

"Hmm, maybe," the human muttered, "That still…"

"_I know_," Twilight cut him off again, and this time Rainbow could practically hear her grinding her teeth, "When I visited that realm, I saw pictures of craft similar looking to yours. Similar meaning they shared certain attributes, such as sleek bodies, wings that don't flap, and in the descriptions, it explained that these things flew with objects called engines, which were loud and spewed forth scalding jets of air. Since we know that humans exist in that other realm, I simply put two and two together."

"Ahh," Mo said, before looking around, "Another question. Why is everyone here all…" he trailed off.

"All what?" Celestia prompted, turning Mo's attention toward her.

"…Technicolor," he finished.

"Wait, so you're saying that the humans in your world all look like you?" asked Twilight in surprise, "That multiple color hues are, abnormal?"

"Well, not exactly." Mo stated, "There are different races of people, and they are different colors, yes, but there are a few major differences between them and you. I mean, those races originate from all around the world. Just here, I see purple, white, navy blue, cyan blue, royal blue, black, lavender, and brown. There are three shades of blue, for crying out loud! That's another thing that separates your world's colors from mine. The color differences here can are massive, where as in my world, all the different colors stem from the color brown. There are light browns, so light that they look white, and on the opposite end of the spectrum there are browns so dark they are black, as well as all sorts of shades in between. Why?"

"Well then, it was not your specific world I went to." Twilight said, "You see, everybody there was multi colored, like us, but what was even stranger was the fact that there was a human version of each one of my friends, and of many other ponies too. The only big difference between them and us was the fact that they were humans, and we, obviously, are not. Oh, and the princesses were 'principle's, whatever that means, but other than that there was almost no difference. Those humans shared colors, personalities, likes, dislikes, and even friends with their pony counterparts, as far as I know."

"Jeez, do you even realize how improbable that whole scenario is? Like, one in zillion! Bigger than that Well, if you take the parallel universe theory into consideration, the the probability will go up, but it is still an incredibly low odds."

_"If you two don't mind," _Celestia interrupted, clearly starting to get annoyed, "I would like to continue this conversation somewhere more private."

"Great idea, Celestia, right?" Mo said happily, "Do you have a place where I can store my plane that has access to water?" Rainbow ground her teeth at the human's perky enthusiasm.

"Water? Whatever you need water for?" Luna asked.

"It's what acts as the planes fuel." Mo answered, now starting to turn around to head back into his plane, "So I'll just follow you, okay?"

"Very well." Celestia said, "Captain Spitfire."

Spitfire stepped forward, "Yes, Princess?"

"You will show our guest to the crystal caves, where he will be able to hide his craft, away from prying eyes. As for water, there is a spring-fed lake in the first cavern, so you will have access to water. After that, please join Twilight, Luna, and I in the throne room to discuss other matters."

'Wait for it,' Rainbow thought, silently counting down. Three, two, one…

"Now wait just a minute, there. You want _me _to go with _him_, alone, down to the caves, which, may I remind you, are a labyrinth, and hook him up to water, which, for all we know, could be used to destroy Canterlot! If I'm gonna be going anywhere with him, I going to want backup. Soarin and Miss Dash, to be specific."

"To be fair, I have no idea where to go, or how to get back," Mo muttered.

All of Rainbow's thoughts ground to a halt. Her? Go with him? It had taken all of her willpower to keep herself from attacking the human in front of the princesses, but she didn't know if she would be able to restrain herself when it was just her, Soarin, and Spitfire with the human. On the other hand, this would give her a chance to spend some time with two of her idols. And it would give her the chance to give this human, this Mo, a good talking to. So she might as well go with them, and in that case she had to keep her trap shut and not complain.

"Captain, don't you think it might be a good idea to take more than just them?" Fleetfoot asked concernedly, "Soarin I can understand, but why not take more ponies with you, with, uh, more qualified individuals among their ranks?" All she got in return was a glare from Spitfire.

"Do not question me, Fleetfoot!" Spitfire snapped, "Miss Dash is, you forget, an Element of Harmony, meaning she has been in her share of tight situations. Not only that, she is also one of the best fliers I know, or do you forget how she saved mine, and Soarin's, lives. I think she will be able to handle escort duty. Isn't that so, Miss Dash?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Rainbow responded, firing off a snappy salute. Spitfire nodded once, and Rainbow felt a glow of satisfaction, as she knew she had given the right answer.

"Very well, Captain, you may have Rainbow Dash and Lieutenant Soarin accompany you when you escort Pilot Mo to the Crystal Caverns," Celestia said, "After that, please lead him back to the throne room, where you will turn him over to the guards. After that, you are dismissed, on the condition that you do not tell anypony about the events that have transpired behind these walls."

"I don't know about you, but it sounds like I'm a prisoner here," muttered Mo halfheartedly, "I remember that I specifically touched upon that." Everypony ignored that comment.

"Excuse me, Princess, but I would like to have Rainbow Dash present when we talk with Mo," Twilight interjected, "As Spitfire stated earlier, she is one of the Elements of Harmony, and, on that note, I would also like to send a letter to the rest of my friends in Ponyville, asking them to come to Canterlot, as they deserve to know what's going on."

"I also believe that Soarin, Misty Fly, Fleetfoot and I should be present, for, uh security reasons," Spitfire added.

"We will not be alone in there, may I remind you. For one we have each other, as well as the Canterlot Guards. However," Celestia continued before Spitfire could voice anymore objections, "I believe you have a right to know what is going on, as do all the ponies who participated in the chase. Therefore, everypony except you, Rainbow Dash, and Soarin will be waiting in the throne room for you to return." She then turned to Twilight.

"Alright Twilight, I will send a message to Spike, instructing him to tell your friends to hasten to Canterlot. I should also probably send a letter the Princess Cadence and Shining Armor too, while I'm at it, instructing them to do the same." At this point she was talking more to herself than to everypony else. She snapped her attention back to the present after a second though, and turned her attention back to Spitfire, Soarin, and Rainbow, "Now, I believe you four have somewhere to be?" They all nodded, and Celestia smiled.

"Good, we will be waiting for you in the throne room."

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**Soooo...**

**Whadya think? Good, bad, exceedingly horrible? Anyway, drop a review, as one can NEVER have too many reviews. It's always a good thing (in my opinion) to hear what others have to say about a story, such as things they liked, disliked, and where they think the story should go. I will try to take input into consideration when writing, but no promises. Anyway, until next time, this is the Supreme Slurpinator, signing off!**

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**God, that sounded cheesy. Oh well, TTFN, Ta Ta For Now!**

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**And that sounded pretty darn cheesy too. Well, anyway, cyall later!**


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